


Spirited Away

by RunicHealer



Series: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Mediator of Spirits [1]
Category: Star Wars: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton
Genre: Family, Gen, Horror, Spiritual
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-13 10:49:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/502710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunicHealer/pseuds/RunicHealer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spirited Away - to disappear mysteriously due to actions of spirits. Obi-Wan was spirited away and Qui-Gon must find him before it's too late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spirited Away

It was a small town in a primitive planet. Quiet Cradle was one of the many villages that dotted the planet Albion, and it was also one of the coldest. The planet's overall climate was better than in Hoth, but it came dangerously close.

A boy no older than thirteen with spiky auburn hair with a nerf tail and Padawan braid, green eyes, scrawny physique, and pale skin yawned. His robes hung tightly around his body; the cold around him was more than the usual climate in Coruscant. There was dampness in the air, and frost in the mist that left shivers that raced up and down the Padawan's spine. Obi-Wan hoped that they would quickly resolve the matter and return home where he could snuggle in his thermo blankets and indulge in hot milk.

"H-How long do you t-think this will last?" White puffs of breath escaped Obi-Wan's lips; he wanted to breathe through his nose, but it only gave his head a rush of frigid cold that left it aching.

Obi-Wan's master was a big, leonine man – long hair half-pulled back, blue eyes, a neat beard, and strong and handsome features that many found appealing. His physique was masculine, with well-defined muscles and strong limbs; Qui-Gon Jinn could intimidate anyone with his size. However, his wizened and gentle gaze was always present, making the Jedi Master easy to approach. He did not seem to mind the weather, even with his outer robe draped loosely over his Padawan; Qui-Gon released his discomfort with the cold to the Force. For now, however, his usually kind face was set in a stoic expression.

"We're almost there, Padawan. It would rather be prudent for us to wait patiently and quietly," Qui-Gon replied flatly, staring ahead and barely blinking.

Both rode a carriage, the planet's technology was lagging so much that only a few cities have speeders, and the fastest primitive transport was by rail transits and steam trains; most of the planet's population either traveled by foot or carriage. Travelling across continents required steam boats and sailing ships, only the rich could afford starships.

Obi-Wan deflated, looking down with a forlorn expression. He hugged himself, hoping to warm his freezing arms and frigid fingers.

"Y-yes, Master Jinn." The carriage rattled, and both occupants almost flew off their seats. Thankfully, Obi-Wan remained seated, but his master received a nasty bump to the head.

Rubbing it, Qui-Gon checked outside the window of their carriage once again as the village made out of wood and stone came into view. A thick, black forest surrounded the area, and the road leading to the village forked in the direction of a distant mansion. Only a few miles left, and the pair of Jedi would be meeting the sheriff that sent the request.

Their mission was limited to only Quiet Cradle, it wasn't anything big, and it was deemed safe enough for a new Padawan and Master to accept it. Reports of children going missing were given to the Jedi. The sheriff said that most of them disappeared into the forests, never to reappear. These incidents were common in their village, but what made them ask for Jedi assistance was the sudden disappearance of most of children in Quiet Cradle.

Qui-Gon had been adamant in declining the mission, saying that a mission of this nature was dangerous to someone like Obi-Wan. However, it was Yoda and Mace that made him begrudgingly accept the mission.

And now, here he was: in a primitive carriage, drawn by sturdy horses, in a frozen planet.

At least Qui-Gon appreciated the pair of majestic life-forms.

As for Obi-Wan, he kept his misery tight inside his shields. It has been a few months since Qui-Gon accepted him as his apprentice on Bandomeer, yet Obi-Wan couldn't help but feel that their relationship was… strained.

Strained didn't cover it.

Staring towards the window, Obi-Wan sighed, not knowing how to break the awkward silence. Swallowing, Obi-Wan hugged himself tighter, sinking into the cushion of the carriage and mentally recited the Code.

Qui-Gon frowned, testing Obi-Wan's shields. Some of his discomfort leaked through, but the boy had no idea how to express it. Ever since Bandomeer, the young Jedi suddenly became subdued. Timidity and blind obedience were now ever present in Obi-Wan, his temper seemingly locked away and his confidence vanished.

Breathing through his nose, Qui-Gon decided to recount the details the Council gave them.

Most of the children that had gone missing varied from age four to ten, and anyone older that had gone missing was rare. Anyone who went missing was rarely found over the age of ten. It was also said that these children all went missing in the middle of the night, never to be found again.

Will of the Force or not, Qui-Gon believed that this mission would prove to be dangerous to Obi-Wan, and he would have rather picked a different one if not for the Council's meddling.

The carriage jolted again, and Qui-Gon received another bump to his head. He scowled and checked outside. Thankfully, they passed by the town entrance. The carriage halted in front of a small stone house.

Master and Padawan stepped out of the transportation and looked around Quiet Cradle.

A blanket of snow covered the road and buildings. Most of the buildings were old in design, with high roofs, stone walls, wooden doors, and narrow windows. Plenty of the houses had iron fences with intricate designs; inside them would be stretches of snow-covered earth that could have been a garden during the planet's spring time. The road had several paths that led to the market, the river, and a small playground.

A man greeted the pair. He wore a thick coat over his garments, but his cravat was visible. He was a plump man, pale due to the lack of sunlight the planet got, and his blonde hair was so dark that it almost looked brown. His grey eyes were small and beady, wrinkles from a mix of stress and joy lined his face, and his cheeks and nose were red from the cold. He looked jolly and kind, but an air of depression hung over him.

"Mayor Rufus Thompson?" Qui-Gon asked and the man nodded.

Obi-Wan wasn't paying attention. He was gazing around the town, looking at the villagers.

Men and women wearing thick and conservative clothing scurried about, all in a rush. Yet their rush wasn't due to a busy day; they all seemed eager to go home, afraid of staying out when night fell. To Obi-Wan's surprise, there were children outside, but they weren't playing around. Before he could continue his observations, he felt Qui-Gon tug from his end of the bond.

"Jedi?" Mayor Thompson asked.

"Yes, we received your distress signal, and we were hoping to help," Qui-Gon replied.

"I'm pleased that you both have made it. Come in, blighted cold is killing the lad." The older man ushered the pair inside what seemed to be his house. Thompson quickly hung his coat on a hanger and took Obi-Wan's and Jinn's to hang alongside his. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon were led from a hall towards a parlor room.

The parlor was warm and cozy, a fire crackled in a nearby hearth, and thick curtains covered the windows. A thick, lavender, cushiony couch was in front of the fireplace, and a pair of lavender plush chairs stood at its side. A small rectangular table was at the center and there was a rug beneath the wooden furniture, and red carpet covered the floor. Primitive picture frames hung over the wall, which was covered with red and gold-striped wallpaper. A large painting of a meadow was hung just above the fireplace.

"Here, sit. Tea?" Thompson motioned the pair towards the couch.

Obi-Wan sunk into the plush seat, enjoying the heat. Qui-Gon nodded towards the official. "Yes please."

The man quickly disappeared into the hall; his footsteps faded away.

"What have you seen so far?" Qui-Gon asked his young apprentice.

Looking down, Obi-Wan replied as steadily as he can. "Everyone feels miserable; all of them were worried about their children. They were all broadcasting their thoughts, so I'd say it was bad. Last night, three disappeared, but…"

Qui-Gon nodded, urging Obi-Wan to continue.

"There are too many children around, as if no one is missing. The children out there aren't hidden inside homes like most parents would if someone is kidnapping children."

Qui-Gon nodded, pleased at his apprentice's intuition. He let a tendril of approval flow through the bond, but Obi-Wan kept his reaction behind his shields.

"Good. However, I feel that there is more to this than meets the eye." Thompson returned, pushing a tea trolley.

The smell of bitter tea relaxed Qui-Gon and helped ease his frazzled nerves a bit. The mayor poured black tea into three ceramic cups and placed them over the table. He also set a plate of biscuits for them to eat and a pot of milk, sugar, and cinnamon. The man quickly sunk into one of the chairs, relieved at the presence of Jedi.

Cutting to the chase, Qui-Gon began to discuss the details of their mission. "We have received reports of missing children. You have detailed that it was not unusual in the past, but there was a sudden mass of disappearing children that prompted you to send a distress call to Coruscant."

"T'was true. However… Only a child or two would disappear in a year. Suddenly, twenty disappear on one night." However, it wasn't enough of an explanation for the Jedi to start an investigation.

"There are plenty of children outside; shouldn't they be scarce on the streets if plenty are disappearing?' Qui-Gon asked, boring on Thompson's eyes.

Thompson sighed tiredly; he dumped three sugar cubes on his tea and stirred them wearily. "They appear the next day."

"Then a kidnapper that experiments with children then?"

" There is no kidnapper."

Qui-Gon was annoyed at a mission that seemed to need no assistance, but he reasoned that the town's head wouldn't be sending a distress call if there was no need.

As for Obi-Wan, he kept quiet. Mission briefings usually bored him, so Obi-Wan chose to munch on the scones as silently as he could instead. From his periphery, he could see Thompson look up and past them, seemingly intent on staring through his and his master's head.

"Then why ask for help?"

"They… the children… They're, well, not the same."

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. "I understand that such events are traumatic for children. However, they appear the next day after disappearing in the night, and there is no kidnapper. A mind healer is a better solution than a knight. However, I will see what I can and report to the council and see what they can do."

Thompson deflated, slightly relieved. "Thank you, I… Follow me."

Thompson stood up and Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan followed suit. The pair followed the man back to the hall.

"Wait for a few moments, I'll call you when it's alright," Thompson said, looking towards the direction of the stairs of his home nervously. He padded towards the master and his apprentice, his boots pounding on the wooden floor.

"Padawan, you may explore the town, but do not stray too far. Be back before sundown," Qui-Gon dismissed his apprentice.

Obi-Wan nodded and quietly exited the home through the front door. Qui-Gon prodded the bond, however heavy shields met him so he let it at that instead. He heard Thompson call from the second floor, so he quickly climbed the stairs.

The whole house had stone walls, but its flooring was made out of wood. Qui-Gon found the older man beckoning him towards a baby blue door. Papers were pinned on the door, and its hinges were a little rusty, but it served its purpose. Qui-Gon quietly stepped inside, observing what seems to be the room of a child.

A bed with blue comforters were pushed to one side, a shelf full of toy soldiers and other wooden figures right next to it. A dresser was on the other side of the bed, and a small old fashioned lamp lay on top. Toys and porcelain figures were scattered on the floor. Blue curtains were draped over a small window with glass panes, but grills covered it—it reminded Qui-Gon of a cage. In front of the bed was a small table, with a pair of chairs tucked under it. On one chair, a boy no older than ten sat.

Thompson's mouth was set on a grim line, glancing at the occupant of the room. "This is Colin," Thompson inclined his head towards the boy.

The boy had brown hair; it clumped messily above his forehead. Like most inhabitants of the planet, he had pale and smooth skin. He wore a jumper over a white-button up shirt, his shorts reached an inch above his knees, and his socks were high enough to disappear in his shorts.

Qui-Gon was unnerved.

He couldn't feel the boy's presence in the Force, but that wasn't the only reason. Colin's half-lidded hazel eyes stared ahead unblinkingly. They were lifeless and blank. Colin didn't seem to be moving either, and for a second, Qui-Gon thought he was staring at a doll. The rise and fall of the boy's chest was the only indication he was alive.

"Colin, you have a visitor," Thompson bit out, looking away. Qui-Gon could feel the man's distress, frustration, and grief rolling off in waves. Qui-Gon had to tighten his shields to keep Thompson's emotions from bleeding through him.

Colin looked up and met Qui-Gon's eyes. The master felt a chill run down his spine and goose bumps formed over his skin. Qui-Gon resisted the urge to rub them away. The Force whispered an anomaly; there is something  _wrong_  about this boy. The Force had no answers, other than that something horrible happened and no one knew how to reverse it. Colin just felt so…  _wrong_.

Colin did not speak, nor did he blink. He only gazed at Qui-Gon, never faltering. Moments passed, and neither broke off the gaze. However, Qui-Gon's uneasiness in the situation increased, so he quickly broke off the gaze, turning to Thompson.

"I… I have no answers to this predicament, but I believe this is a grave matter indeed."

Thompson nodded, and quickly led Qui-Gon away from Colin's room. The mayor spoke as they headed back to the parlor.

"My son… He was… He, we… I tucked him into bed. He went to sleep like usual, then when Martha–" Thompson choked, but he continued, "He was gone. Then everyone around town crowded around our home, asking, looking for their own. I… We never found them, 'til sunrise. Then," he paused, meeting Qui-Gon's eyes, "they were like that. Old Lily was screaming nonsense, saying that  _she_  returned. It was true this isn't the first time it happened. However, we… They were so many. I had never … They were just so much. Then the next day, ten were gone and… Then fifteen, then— it stopped, no one was taken for a few nights. Then last night, lad down the street was gone, and then he returned just earlier. I– Someone might disappear tonight, and I… I don't know what to do." Thompson croaked out, grief and guilt rolled off from him in large waves.

"How many children live here?"

"Around seventy."

Qui-Gon frowned, his eyebrows scrunched together in concentration. At this rate, all of the children would... meet horrid fates in a few weeks' time.

Both arrived at the parlor, and Qui-Gon returned to the couch, and took his cooling tea.

"Ever since Tristan, the inn keeper's son, came back, this happened. Ever since his trip on Bandomeer…"

"Bandomeer?" Qui-Gon asked, not liking where this is going.

Thompson grabbed his own tea cup and swallowed the contents on one gulp, distressed. "There was a shortage a few weeks ago. Bandomeer was nearest place where we could get supplies. Her Majesty called for volunteers, Tristan went. We got what we needed then… Three days later, the children…" Thompson trailed off, tired. Qui-Gon frowned, but he felt the Force telling him to stay and investigate. Sipping the bitter tea, Qui-Gon bore into Thompson's eyes.

"Obi-Wan and I will be conducting an investigation. If we find something of interest, we'll contact the council as soon as we can," Qui-Gon promised, his blue eyes assuring the older man.

Thompson nodded. "Thank you."

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Obi-Wan gazed around Quiet Cradle. Men in thick rags swept the snow away to clear the ground. Even then, the young Jedi could feel their impatience and the need to return home as soon as they could.

There were children on the streets. Their clothes did not seem very good for keeping the cold out, Obi-Wan observed. However, they didn't seem to be bothered by it at all. He wondered if they knew anything about the other children that disappeared.

He couldn't see their faces, but that didn't stop his desire to sate his curiosity. A girl stood on the porch of one of the houses, holding a small doll in her arms.

Obi-Wan was about to approach her, but a hand suddenly clamped on his shoulder. He cried out in surprise, and he felt himself twisted to meet his assaulter.

" _You!_  She will come for you, and you won't stop her! She will have you at last! She–"

Obi-Wan shook and his eyes were wide in fear. Blood pounded against his ears, his heart was beating wildly against his chest, and the horrid feeling of dread settled on the pit of his stomach. The hairs on his skin stood, and his legs felt weak. Was the floor spinning? He wasn't sure, the fear he felt almost choked him, and he felt some of it leak through his bond with Qui-Gon.

The woman shaking him had thin, white, and filthy hair. Her face was lined heavily, her cheeks were sunken, and her grey eyes were large and looked bruised–she looked like a skull. Her clothes looked no better than rags; they were torn and filthy. Her hands looked impossibly thin, and her veins bulged against her skin. Her expression terrified Obi-Wan, she looked like a half-starved animal ready to tear the nearest living thing with her hands.

Obi-Wan struggled, but her grip on him was too strong. He tried to pry her hands off his shoulders, but her seemingly fragile arms were stronger than they looked. Reaching in, he called for the Force for assistance. He was about to push the old woman off, but someone beat him to it.

"Ma!" The woman's hands lost their grip, and Obi-Wan fell flat on his rear.

The woman bowed her head down, but she muttered a slew of curses under her breath. Looking up, Obi-Wan saw his savior.

He blushed; the boy that saved him was rather… cute. He looked to be around fifteen. He had messy black hair; a few stray locks covered his forehead and framed his face. His eyes were grey-blue and clear, and they were alive with an inner light that Obi-Wan could feel through the Force. He wore a light cloak over his old waistcoat, and his trousers had a few small patches around the knees. His skin was pale and clear, but a tinge of pink was around his cheeks and the tip of his nose.

"Sorry 'bout tha'. Ma's been like tha' since fo'ever. He'e, I'll pull ya up." The boy held a gloved hand for Obi-Wan to take. Thankful, the Jedi grasped it and let himself be pulled up.

"Thank you," Obi-Wan said in a soft whisper. The boy grinned and pulled Obi-Wan away from his mother.

"Me sis will be lookin' for Ma this morn, she should be tekkin' her back to tha inn. By tha way, I'm Tristan Hewley," the boy replied. The Padawan almost cringed at Tristan's accent. It sounded like Coruscanti, but it was thicker and heavier. It was more nasal and some of the consonants and vowels were dropped from each word.

"I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Tristan grinned and continued on, "You don' look like you're from 'ere. I'm sure tha' you're tha Jedi Ol' Man Rufus yammered abou'." He led Obi-Wan to the back of a building with a large cut-out of a frothing mug on front. "I've known tha' tavern girl 'round 'ere. She's been mindin' good 'ol me and pa eve' since ma wen' bonkers." Obi-Wan frowned at Tristan's implication of his mother's sanity.

Tristan seemed to have picked up on this. "Don' worr'e 'bout 'er. No one wan's ta 'ave 'barmy ol' Lily' anywe'e. Though, bloody Pa won' le' 'er go." Tristan produced a pair of red fruits from his trousers. He handed Obi-Wan one of them and he bit on his own.

"Oh…" Obi-Wan felt awkward; he never met someone to be so open to sharing their lives and problems.

"Ow 'bout you? You're 'ere, so you mus' be seein' why those li'l blighters been goin' on and comin' back." Tristan nodded to himself and took another large bite off his fruit. Obi-Wan played with his own, not feeling hungry.

"Well, Master Jinn and I did come to investigate the disappearances. However, as far as I can see, there doesn't seem to be any lack of children." Obi-Wan nibbled the fruit. It was rather sweet with small tangs of sour, but it was good and juicy.

"Ah, lads and lassies 'ave been spirite' away. Gooin' away a nigh, then comin' back withou' a soul. Ma's been ravin' 'bout it. I'm happy tha' it's you and Miste' Jinn bin sent. I wa' on Ban'omee' when you we'e both sent ta negotia'e."

Obi-Wan frowned; he didn't remember seeing Tristan in Bandomeer. Xanatos, Master Jinn, and the AgriCorps were the only clear things in mind. However, Tristan could have been in the sidelines as he helped out his master sort out the issues with Off-world.

"Oh, it was very… messy," Obi-Wan offered lamely, looking away with a tinge of embarrassment on his cheeks.

Tristan laughed, "Bloddy hell tha' was! I ne'er seen ligh' swo'ds in m' life!"

With a straight face, Obi-Wan countered, "Jedi must never resort to violence. But if we have light sabers and don't use it, where would the fun be?"

Tristan chuckled, "True, then I remembe' watchin' sum Jedi on ta Holo with a pu'ple sabe'. Musta've been good to 'ave no one laugh at 'im."

Obi-Was about to reply, but the voice of his master from their bond kept him.

' _Padawan, where are you? We need to retire, it's almost sun down and Mayor Thompson said that there will be a blizzard tonight.'_  Tristan noticed the hesitation before Obi-Wan could reply.

"Tristan, I think my master is looking for me. I should go check him out back at Mr. Thompson's house." Tristan nodded, understanding.

"Almos' sundow', bes if ya' stay a' home fo' ta nigh'." Obi-Wan offered the older boy a sad smile, but Tristan waved off the forlorn expression with a bright grin.

"Don' bea' you'self o'er it. The'e's still ta morrow. I'd be seein' you then!" However, Tristan did not leave Obi-Wan yet.

The older boy escorted the Padawan learner back to Thompson's house. They passed by plenty of children along the way, and Tristan had to maneuver through them.

The mood was rather light when the boys stepped into Thompson's porch, tidying their boots and shaking off the snow on their clothes.

"See you tomorrow then," Obi-Wan offered his hand.

"On ta morrow then!" Tristan grasped Obi-Wan's hand and pulled him to a hug.

Obi-Wan blushed at the contact, patting the older boy's back awkwardly. They pulled away; Obi-Wan diverted his gaze while Tristan beamed at him.

"Morrow then!" With that, he exited the quaint house and shut the door quietly.

Shaking his head in amusement, Obi-Wan made his way to the parlor where Qui-Gon was waiting.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanking WargishBoromirFan for beta-reading! XD


End file.
